


Make it real for me

by clottedcreamfudge



Series: Quite Magical [2]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alec Lightwood Deserves Nice Things, D/s undertones, Edging, Established Relationship, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, M/M, Magic, Magnus Bane Deserves Nice Things, Overstimulation, Praise Kink, Protective Magnus Bane, Soul Bond, Subby Alec Lightwood, There's A Tag For That, Who needs a safe word when you have a magical soul bond?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:02:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29917314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clottedcreamfudge/pseuds/clottedcreamfudge
Summary: “The first thing you probably need to know,” Magnus begins, apparently deciding to dive right in, “is that I’m flying somewhat blind here. I know a fair amount about various magical bonds, but I confess I’ve never been part of the equation before.” Alec blinks at him for a second, fingers tightening slightly around his coffee cup. He should definitely be less pleased about that.“Okay,” he says, nodding. He should probably admit that he’s incredibly grateful Magnus has never done this before. This is partially because it means he’s not alone in the newness of all this, but also because he might be just a little bit jealous of his boyfriend’s 17,000 other conquests; it’s comforting to know he’s neversoul-bondedto any of them. He thinks that’s probably allowed.➼Some bonds just want to be completed. Some Shadowhunters want to get totally and completely ruined by cat-eyed warlocks. Some warlocks are more than happy to oblige.
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Series: Quite Magical [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2195724
Comments: 45
Kudos: 208





	Make it real for me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Accal1a](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Accal1a/gifts), [Aria_Lerendeair](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aria_Lerendeair/gifts).



“Is there a reason you always go for pancakes?” Alec looks up at the question, feeling himself flush - it’s defensive, automatic. _Stupid_. Magnus isn’t making fun of his breakfast choices; he’s just asking a question.

“Food at the Institute is pretty boring,” he says with a shrug, pouring some syrup on his stack of pancakes and putting the jug back down on the table. “Pancakes have always been the most exciting thing we get. I dunno - I’ve always liked them.” He swipes up an errant drop of syrup from the outside of the jug with his thumb on autopilot; he doesn’t think about how it might look until he catches Magnus’s eye, the pad of his thumb already in his mouth. He doesn’t need a partially formed magical soul bond to know what that look means. It makes him hot all over, and he immediately regrets the fact that they’re in such a public place.

“Just wait until you try waffles, darling,” Magnus says eventually, sounding perhaps a little affected but resolutely calm. Alec huffs out a laugh and the tension dissipates slightly, for all that the heat stays; _that_ remains resolutely behind, a background hum to their interactions throughout their meal that makes Alec’s skin itch with the need to reach out and touch.

“Is it-” Alec starts, then stops himself, looking away from his empty plate to meet Magnus’s curious gaze, hands twisting nervously in his lap. “Obviously, I wanted you anyway,” he says eventually, trying to be honest even though his face is on fire, “but it’s um… more difficult than usual. Not to think about it, I mean. Is that the bond?” Magnus puts down his knife and fork.

“You will be receiving a certain amount of _feedback,”_ he says slowly, resting his clasped hands on the edge of the table as he considers Alec with steady eyes. Alec is seized with the almost _painful_ need to grab Magnus’s hands. “That probably isn’t helping matters, I’ll admit. I can attempt to mute things a little-”

“No,” Alec says quickly, and Magnus looks almost startled by the violence of his objection. “I didn’t say I didn’t _like_ it.” The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them, the familiar shame of admitting that he wants something rising up very quickly in their absence. He digs his fingers into his thighs and takes a breath. It’s _fine_.

“Alexander,” Magnus says softly, and Alec can’t meet his eyes because if he does, he might crack; this is not the place to be having a breakdown over _wanting_ something. One of Magnus’s hands appears in his field of vision, sliding across the tabletop, palm up in invitation. Alec takes it, biting the inside of his cheek to stop from making a sound at the wave of sensation it sends through him; he feels as though something hollow in him has been filled, if only temporarily, drowning out the dark.

When he finally does meet Magnus’s eyes, after several long moments of finding his breath, Alec has to remind himself that this is _also_ not the place for him to slide to his knees and try out one of the many fantasies he’s had about sucking Magnus’s cock.

“Would you like to continue this conversation elsewhere?” Magnus asks, and it’s only because Alec’s still thinking about it - about what would happen if he just slid under the table and got his mouth on Magnus - that he’s looking closely enough to see the minute flash of gold in Magnus’s eyes.

“Yeah,” he breathes. Swallows. “Yeah, we should - go. Somewhere else.”

They go to Magnus’s apartment, walking side by side even though they could have just portalled, a shock of electricity passing between them every time their hands brush. Alec doesn’t say anything about it, partially because he’s scared it’s just _him_ , but mostly because he’s struggling to think straight at the moment; the added sensation at least keeps him grounded.

When they get to the brownstone, they make the mistake of getting in the elevator. The second the doors close, it’s like all the air leaves the space, and Alec ends up staring resolutely at the ceiling in a vain attempt to avoid any kind of eye contact for the journey.

Which takes, frankly, _forever_.

“Should’ve used the stairs,” Alec says through gritted teeth, and Magnus’s choked-off laughter has his eyes moving of their own accord, landing on Magnus’s face without his permission. Alec has to remind himself that it’s been maybe thirty seconds, and it’ll probably be less than a minute until they’re at Magnus’s loft; then they’ll be somewhere private, and they can… talk. Or whatever. He’s controlled himself perfectly well for the last two months; the heat clawing at his stomach can _wait._

It probably says something about his headspace that this internal monologue does nothing to stop him from crossing the elevator, pushing Magnus against the wall and kissing him like he’s starving. The noise Magnus makes against Alec’s mouth is low and pleased, and the feeling of Magnus not just kissing back, but actually pulling him in closer by his hips, has Alec hoping the elevator fucking breaks down.

He bites down on Magnus’s lower lip and lifts him up by the thighs to press him harder against the wall. A jolt of arousal goes through him at how _easily_ Magnus goes, wrapping his legs around Alec’s waist with a delighted hum like this is a dance they’ve done before; it echoes through their fledgling connection like the beating of a distant drum and Alec can feel the thumping of a heartbeat in his throat, but he doesn’t know _whose_.

The sharp ‘ding’ of the elevator when they reach the top floor is one of the worst sounds Alec’s ever heard.

He pulls back from Magnus somewhat reluctantly, but before he can get his bearings he’s being _dragged_ out of the elevator and shoved through the front door of the loft with more force than he’s expecting. Alec almost trips, but a strong arm around his waist has him turning, and he’s pinned to the wall a moment later by Magnus’s body. 

“I’m less than impressed by those Shadowhunter reflexes,” Magnus murmurs, and Alec would probably be offended by that if he had the brain power left for it. Instead, he just rolls his eyes - and even _that_ takes a lot more concentration than normal - before dragging Magnus back into a kiss, dipping his head slightly to slide their mouths together. It feels like a continuation of their earlier kiss, just as heated and restless, but now Alec doesn’t have to worry about it stopping because they’re already _here_.

When Magnus pulls away, Alec makes a noise he’s not particularly proud of.

“We need to have a conversation,” Magnus says steadily, which is a very reasonable thing to say, and Alec’s not sure why that annoys him so much, but it _does_. His brain is soup right now, and Magnus is just so… _calm_.

“You might need to give me a minute,” he says, perhaps a little sharply, then closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Sorry. Just - hold on.” Magnus hums his acquiescence and Alec feels when he moves further away; can imagine, even with his eyes closed, the louche picture of him leaning back against the wall opposite. Then he _stops_ imagining it, because it isn’t helping.

Eventually he feels a bit less like he’s going to fly apart, and when he opens his eyes, Magnus is exactly where Alec expects him to be; he wonders how much of his imagination was actually just the bond, then tries to stop thinking about it altogether. It’s probably going to make his head hurt.

“Okay,” he says calmly. “Sorry - again.”

“Things got a little intense,” Magnus allows with a small smile. “How about I get us some coffee?” 

They end up on the couch with plenty of space left between them, takeaway cups of coffee in hand that Magnus summoned from Alec can only guess where. The slogan on the cardboard sleeve doesn’t even seem to be in English, but it’s insanely good coffee - he doesn’t question it.

“The first thing you probably need to know,” Magnus begins, apparently deciding to dive right in, “is that I’m flying somewhat blind here. I know a fair amount about various magical bonds, but I confess I’ve never been part of the equation before.” Alec blinks at him for a second, fingers tightening slightly around his coffee cup. He should definitely be less pleased about that.

“Okay,” he says, nodding. He should probably admit that he’s incredibly grateful Magnus has never done this before. This is partially because it means he’s not alone in the newness of all this, but also because he might be just a little bit jealous of his boyfriend’s 17,000 other conquests; it’s comforting to know he’s never _soul-bonded_ to any of them. He thinks that’s probably allowed. Magnus seems to take Alec’s contemplative silence as his cue to continue.

“That being said, you have three options-”

 _“We_ have three options,” Alec corrects, and Magnus looks up from where he’s been studying his coffee cup, looking surprised. “I’m not making this decision by myself, right?” Magnus’s face softens and he smiles in a way that never fails to make something pleasantly warm prickle at the base of Alec’s spine.

“Of course, Alexander. _We_ have three options,” he confirms, inclining his head slightly. “The first option is letting you go through the withdrawal in full, thereby severing the potential bond entirely.” Alec already knows he doesn’t want that, but he takes a sip of his coffee and hums a little as he swallows instead of outright telling Magnus that option one _sucks._

“And the other options?” The way Magnus’s mouth pulls up just a little at the corner again suggests he heard what Alec _hadn’t_ said regardless.

“The second option is we delay for a while, until you’re sure this is what you want-”

“You’re doing it again,” Alec says with a sigh, rolling his shoulders a little against the itch rising under his skin. “This isn’t just about what I want.” Magnus fixes him with a look that would be withering if it weren’t so incredibly fond.

“Alexander, my magic tried to get us hitched without me even noticing anything was amiss,” Magnus says drily. “I have not been particularly subtle regarding what I want.”

Alec’s heart practically stops in his chest. “You-” He swallows and puts his cup down on the table; his hands might be shaking just a little. “It was an accident. I mean, you didn’t do it on purpose, did you?”

“Not in the slightest, but all magic requires intent,” Magnus says breezily, though Alec isn’t even a _little_ bit fooled. He can feel the faintest jangling of nerves in his stomach, but they don’t feel like his; the feeling tastes weirdly _yellow,_ which is almost as insane as the idea that Magnus is so into him that his magic had tried to get them warlock married two months into their relationship.

“Magnus, I love you,” Alec says - then he stops, because that hadn’t been what he’d meant to say at all. Fuck, okay. “I-” He stops again. It’s not like he can take it back when he knows with absolute certainty that it’s the truth; Alec just kind of feels like he should have picked a better moment. Or maybe said it over the phone so he didn’t have to look at Magnus’s completely unfathomable expression from the other side of the couch.

He ends up not saying anything else at all, instead letting the words hang there in the air like something tangible, a presence in the very deliberate space left between them. The silence stretches on for several seconds, until Magnus eventually clears his throat.

“Option three,” he says, voice a little husky as he gently places his coffee cup next to Alec’s, “is that we ignore all common sense and propriety and complete the bond with almost immediate effect. It should probably be noted that I’m biased in this direction for several reasons, not least of which is that I’m in love with you.”

_Oh._

“There are other reasons?” Alec asks shakily. He hadn’t noticed before, but the distance between them on the couch has definitely reduced quite considerably since this conversation started; Magnus’s body is only a few inches away from his now, and the prickling at the base of his spine has ramped up to a level that’s much harder to ignore.

“Quite a few,” Magnus confirms, placing a hand on Alec’s knee and moving it slowly up his thigh. “Coming in a close second, for example, is the rather selfish desire to get my hands on you without having to hold my magic back the entire time.” Alec swallows and reaches out to slide his hand round the back of Magnus’s neck; the flash of desire he feels at the contact could be either one of them at this point.

“Is it selfish if I really, _really_ want you to touch me too?” he asks, voice cracking a little on the word ‘touch’; even thinking about it is making him weak. He knows part of it is the bond - he assumes it _wants_ to be completed, the way a circuit lights up when closed - but he’s pretty sure most of it is that he’s a twenty-three-year-old virgin with an insanely hot boyfriend. Magnus presses a little harder where his hand rests against Alec’s thigh, thumb dragging down the inseam of his jeans in an almost unconscious movement. 

Correction: Alec is a twenty-three-year-old virgin with an insanely hot, _magical_ boyfriend, whose hands are currently incredibly close to his dick, and who is talking about having sex with him _right now._

“I suppose not,” Magnus muses, then he leans forward and closes the gap between them, mouth fitting against Alec’s and immediately lighting a fire in his bones. Alec gasps, but there’s no time to be embarrassed at the force of his reaction because Magnus’s tongue is in his mouth and the world slips sideways as he’s pushed onto his back; Magnus follows with catlike grace until he’s pressed entirely against Alec’s front, any deliberate space immediately eradicated. “Is this okay?” he murmurs against Alec’s mouth, barely pulling back far enough to speak before Alec can breathlessly confirm _“yes”_ and drag him back in.

Alec’s pretty sure he’s never been this turned on his life. Magnus’s hands seem to be everywhere, sliding up his neck and into his hair, running down his sides and jerking him closer by the hips before pushing underneath the hem of his shirt. Every touch is electric, and Alec makes a noise he knows probably sounds a little wild when Magnus gets far enough up his torso to run soft palms over his chest, thumbing lightly over his nipples. He jerks at the contact, and Magnus makes an approving noise against his mouth.

“I assume that’s new,” Magnus murmurs as he moves to trail his lips across Alec’s jaw and down his neck. Alec makes a keening noise in the back of his throat and pushes his hands up underneath soft silk, digging blunt nails into Magnus’s back just for something to anchor him.

“It’s _all_ new,” he hisses, desperately turned on and _annoyed_ that his virginity is coming up _now,_ when it’s about to become a non-issue. Then Magnus hums and bites down on his deflect rune, and Alec has to do some truly impressive mental work to keep from coming in his pants, which takes his mind off the annoyance at least. Seeming to realise just how close Alec is to losing it, Magnus pulls back, though his hands remain on Alec’s bare chest where his t-shirt is rucked up to his armpits. “Fuck, just - give me a second.” Magnus’s eyes on him feel like a physical caress, the drag of his gaze over Alec’s stomach and further down making him shudder and slam his eyes shut. He’s meant to be calming _down_.

“As beautiful as you look all mussed up on my couch, darling,” Magnus says above him, sounding distractingly hoarse, “perhaps we should continue this somewhere that your delightfully long legs stand a fighting chance.” At the moment, one of Alec’s legs is off the couch entirely, bent so that his foot is flat on the floor; the other is jammed into the back of the couch at an angle that isn’t uncomfortable _yet_ , but probably will be in the next few minutes. Magnus might have a point.

“Yeah,” Alec says, swallowing. “Let’s do that.”

Alec’s shirt ends up on the floor before they get to the bedroom, Magnus stopping him halfway there to drag it off and pull him into a kiss that’s searing in its intensity; Alec almost loses his footing when Magnus pulls back, before _actually_ stumbling when he sees the look in Magnus’s eyes.

“Careful, Shadowhunter,” he says, and he looks so amused that Alec kisses him again just to shut him up. It’s hot and wet, the sounds of their mouths moving together completely obscene already, and Alec doesn’t want to breathe if it means stopping this for even a second. He summons up every ounce of his dubiously Angelic stability to walk Magnus back towards the bedroom without breaking the kiss, hands fisted determinedly in silk as his head buzzes with the need for connection.

“Let me-” Alec pulls away for long enough to drag Magnus’s shirt over his head, and promptly finds himself completely transfixed by the amount of skin on show. It’s stupid; he’s seen Magnus shirtless before plenty of times, even made out with him a couple of times like this. One of them had always stopped it before it got anything _like_ this intense, and it had probably been before the bond, but… still. Alec’s not sure why this feels so different.

“Everything alright, darling?” Magnus asks quietly. He doesn’t sound worried, and Alec realises he can _feel_ Magnus’s enjoyment at being looked at like this.

“You’re beautiful,” Alec says, his own honesty making his hands shake even as he leans in to take Magnus’s face between them. The look in Magnus’s eyes before Alec kisses him again makes him ache; it’s slower now, some of the urgency bleeding out of him even as Magnus manoeuvres him over to the bed and climbs into his lap, sighing against Alec’s mouth as he settles in. 

They stay like that for a while, kissing lazily, but it isn’t long before Alec’s blood is on fire again; the bond’s certainly getting stronger the longer they keep this up, because Magnus pulls away the second it becomes almost too much for Alec, eyes flashing bright gold. He’s breathing hard, and his glamour’s flickering wildly - which is incredibly gratifying - but he’s holding himself just far enough away from where Alec needs pressure that it’s at least easier to think for a moment.

“Everything okay?” Magnus asks, and his voice is soft but there’s a tension to it that echoes the lines of his body; he’s holding himself back. Alec swallows. He wants this more than he’s ever wanted anything before in his life.

“I’d be better,” he says firmly, hands moving to Magnus’s waist and gripping it with steady fingers, “if you were naked.” Then, with a grace he usually saves for the battlefield, he manages to move and twist in such a way that Magnus is suddenly lying underneath him; the surprised shout of laughter that it shakes from Magnus's lungs has Alec grinning uncontrollably. Their new position makes it easier for Alec to start on the removal of Magnus’s pants, which had been the end goal of that particular manoeuvre, but the laughter is a nice bonus. He really loves it when Magnus laughs.

“A little more impressed by those Shadowhunter reflexes now,” Magnus admits, gratifyingly breathless as he levers himself up onto his elbows to watch Alec at work. “You should probably know I’m not wearing any underwear before you do that, darling. This is going to be a very short game of pass the parcel.” Alec stills, fingers hooked over the waistband of Magnus’s pants, staring up at amused golden eyes from where he’s kneeling on the floor.

(Alec’s also just realised what this looks like. He thinks he'd like to explore how hot it makes him feel some time when he's less desperate.)

“Thanks for the warning,” he says eventually, voice a little hoarse, then carries on with what he was doing because… well, he’s come this far already. Also, he kind of _really_ wants to get his hands on Magnus’s dick, and he’s about ten seconds away from achieving that goal, so-

Alec's thought about this a lot. As he peels Magnus out of offensively tight pants, taking a moment to tug off the shoes and socks that are impeding his progress, he realises that no amount of imagination could have done this image justice.

Magnus is hard, which is pretty easy for him to have thought about, in a vague, nebulous sort of way; until now Alec hadn't actually _seen_ Magnus's dick, but he knows what they look like (obviously) and he'd extrapolated an imperfect image from the information available to him. He'd fantasised a little. He thinks that's probably okay when you're dating someone this mind-meltingly hot.

What Alec hadn't expected was how much just _looking_ at Magnus's cock, flushed and curved up towards his belly, would make his mouth water. He hopes that's normal. Mostly he doesn't care though, he just wants to get some part of himself _on it_.

"Can I touch you?" Alec asks, voice low. He can't even meet Magnus's eyes at first because he's struggling to look at anything above his waist, but a soft hand running up his arm forces him to move his eyes upward. Magnus has moved now, pushing himself up on one hand so he can reach Alec with the other. He looks impossibly beautiful, makeup just a little blurred, like someone drew him in charcoal then smudged the picture with a misplaced gesture.

"You can have anything you want, Alexander," Magnus promises, and Alec shudders when he thinks of all the things he could do with that; all the things he _wants_ to do with that.

He starts by wrapping his hand around Magnus's dick; it seems like as good a place as any to begin, now he has permission. Magnus appears to agree, if his sharp intake of breath is anything to go by, a gentle tremor going through him like he's purposely keeping himself still. He apparently has enough presence of mind to summon lube with a flick of his hand (and in the unthinkable scenario in which they don’t end up together for the rest of Alec’s natural life, he is definitely already _ruined_ for non-magical partners), the tube landing incriminatingly by Alec’s free hand.

Because his other hand is on Magnus’s dick. This is actually happening.

He may have never done this to someone else before, but he's certainly done it to himself; he's got a healthy libido, a lifetime of shameful fantasies, and - at least in the last few months - someone really hot in his life who likes to kiss him breathless then hand him his shirt back. He has more experience in this area than almost anything else, recently.

Still, Alec's kind of impressed with himself - and a little bit bewildered - when Magnus is thrusting into his hand just a few minutes later, everything slicker and sounding far more obscene with the introduction of lube; he's back to propping himself up on his elbows now, and he keeps throwing his head back with these _gorgeous_ noises, before he forces himself to keep looking at what Alec's doing to him. It's mesmerising. If it wouldn't almost _definitely_ give him RSI or carpal tunnel or something, Alec would probably do this forever, if only for the glazed-over look in Magnus's eyes and the way he can't seem to keep his hips from moving.

"Okay, if you want anything other than this from me in the next hour," Magnus gasps out, hips bucking into Alec's fist when he swipes a thumb experimentally over the head of his cock, "you're going to have to stop doing that, angel." Alec stills his hand with some reluctance.

"I can wait," he offers - because honestly, at this rate he's going to come in his pants as soon as Magnus says his name. He can always go again later. He's pretty sure his refractory period can take it.

"Or," Magnus says slowly, circling his fingers around Alec's wrist and gently pulling him away from his task, "we could discuss other options. Like getting you inside me."

Alec squeezes his eyes shut and takes a couple of shuddering breaths, filling his lungs and expelling all the air from them over and over again until he's sure he's calmed down enough not to shoot off when he so much as _looks_ at Magnus. He opens his eyes again. Magnus is looking quietly amused for all that he's _completely_ debauched; his hair is a little mussed from where Alec must have run his fingers through it earlier, and he's covered in a very fine sheen of sweat that Alec wants to _taste._

"Yeah," he says weakly. The idea of being inside Magnus makes his entire body feel like an exposed nerve. "Yeah, I want that."

"Good discussion," Magnus says approvingly, before raising his hand and banishing the rest of Alec's clothes with a careless twist of his fingers. "I hope you don't mind me expediting the process." Alec does not.

When Magnus pulls him up and onto him, all the breath briefly leaves Alec's body - along with, quite possibly, his soul and the last vestiges of his sanity. The background hum of the bond springs vibrantly to life under his skin and he can _feel_ how much Magnus wants him, the desire as alive and tangible as citrus on his tongue.

"Fuck, that's-" Alec can't finish the sentence, because what it _is_ is everything, and even that doesn't seem like an adequate description, but he’s kind of losing the ability to form coherent sentences. Or _thoughts_. Instead, he kisses Magnus again, open-mouthed and a little sloppy, glad when Magnus responds in kind because clearly they’re _both_ well past finesse by this point. He grinds his hips down instinctively and it feels so good he shakes with it, pulling away to bury his face in Magnus’s neck with a groan.

It shouldn’t feel this good.

“ _Or_ we could finish like this,” Magnus says magnanimously, breath coming quickly as he rolls his hips up against Alec’s, punching another desperate noise out of him with the motion. “I’m not averse to giving you a more traditional first time.”

“Stop distracting me,” Alec pants into the curve of Magnus’s neck, then bites down there just a little, because he wants to; Magnus _did_ say he can have whatever he wants, and what he wants right now is more of the kind of noises that the press of his teeth drags out of Magnus’s throat.

“Do that again,” Magnus breathes, nails leaving stinging crescent moons in Alec’s back, “but harder.” Alec is more than happy to oblige, and he’s rewarded with another long, drawn-out moan, the heat of it travelling down his spine like something molten, pooling and coiling tightly in his stomach. He sucks a mark into Magnus’s neck and gets an even _better_ response to that, and he presses his face into the heated skin of Magnus’s chest for a moment just to breathe.

“This is a lot,” Alec says honestly, knowing that the half-formed bond will tell Magnus that what he really means is _I can take more_. 

Magnus takes the unspoken message in his stride.

Alec finds himself flat on his back in the space of a heartbeat, Magnus leaning in immediately to lavish attention on his neck; his tongue drags, flat and firm, over his deflect rune, and Magnus’s knuckles brush Alec’s cock where it’s achingly hard between them. Alec, so close to the edge already, keens-

And then Magnus pulls away from him entirely.

“What-” Alec says, dazed and keyed-up beyond belief as he stares up at his boyfriend through a haze of want. 

“I think you can probably last a little bit longer,” Magnus says mildly, like he’s not hovering over a _complete virgin_ with his perfect body as he says these ridiculous things.

“Magnus, I-”

“You can last a little longer, Alexander,” Magnus says soothingly, but there’s an edge to it and Alec finds himself responding unthinkingly; his back arches and he moves towards the sound of Magnus’s voice like there’s something pulling him in. He’s so close to everything being _too much_ that he thinks maybe that’s all it is for a moment. Then Magnus wraps his hand around the base of Alec’s cock, squeezing just enough to bring him back from a precipice he hadn’t realised he was teetering on, and leans in to whisper in his ear-

And Alec’s entire nervous system lights up like a firework display.

“I think I can probably bring you to the edge a few times,” Magnus says softly, like they’re having a quiet conversation about the weather, and not opening up an unexpected dialogue on delayed gratification. “Do you think you can do that for me, Alexander? Come only when I tell you it’s okay to let go?” Alec’s blood is on fire, but he nods, teeth digging into his bottom lip so hard he draws blood. All the times he’s pictured his virginity disappearing, he’d never expected it to be like this - chucked out of the window of a moving vehicle and pulverised under the tyres of an 18-wheeler.

“Yeah,” he rasps, and Magnus rewards him with a hot, open mouthed press of his lips to Alec’s throat.

“Good boy,” Magnus murmurs, and-

Fuck. Alec’s brain turns to soup at those words, his bones doing something intriguingly _liquid_ where he’s pretty sure his spine used to be. He gasps and arches up against nothing, a spike of pleasure fizzing up his spine like an errant firework.

 _“Ah,”_ Magnus says softly, and Alec shivers. _Whimpers_. “There you are.” Alec has never felt so seen in his life. He feels like open circuitry, like something oversensitive and wild in the cage made by Magnus’s arms.

“Please,” he whispers - _begs_ \- and Magnus answers the high, plaintive note in his voice with a kiss so hot and thorough that it immediately liquifies what remains of Alec’s bones behind layers of skin and muscle. He sinks into the mattress under the onslaught, his body happy to respond to external stimuli instead of taking orders from his brain for once; he feels thoroughly undone, made different and new by every press of Magnus’s mouth.

“How many times?” Magnus asks when he moves away, voice still smoother than silk where it brushes against the shell of Alec’s ear. The breath in his chest stutters in response, every part of him ready to respond, even though he has _no_ fucking idea what he’s being asked.

“What?” Alec asks, stupid and slow for all that he’s never been _either_ of those things.

“How many times,” Magnus repeats patiently, teeth briefly pulling at Alec’s ear lobe and making him shiver, “do you think I can bring you to the edge?”

“I don’t know,” Alec whispers, and it’s a fucking _lie_ ; he should really know better. Magnus feels it, his reticence to answer honestly, and responds with a firm scrape of his teeth against Alec’s neck. His pulse, along with every last muscle in his body, jumps in response.

“Try again, darling,” Magnus says quietly, and Alec squeezes his eyes shut against a feeling that isn’t _shame_ , but might perhaps masquerade as such from a distance.

“I-” Alec stops. He thinks back, and tries to articulate his solo experiences into words. Into a _number_. “Three,” he says eventually. Magnus rewards him with a sharp, open-mouthed hickey to his throat. Alec’s hips buck up of their own accord, searching for friction even as Magnus holds his body away from it, denying him the pressure he so desperately needs.

“I think we’ve already passed number one,” Magnus says kindly, and Alec can only whine in agreement. The fact that he hasn’t gone off already is some kind of fucking _miracle_. Magnus loosens his hold on Alec and trails his fingers up the hard length of his cock; Alec feels something hot and insistent start to build inside his gut almost immediately, and sucks in a sharp breath. “I’m going to give you my mouth now,” Magnus continues, like that’s just something you can _say_ to a person and expect them not to come immediately. The only thing that stops Alec is the fact that if he holds off long enough… he gets Magnus’s mouth. That’s literally it.

“Okay,” Alec croaks, and then Magnus is moving down his body like every one of his sexual fantasies come to life, and taking Alec’s cock into his mouth.

There is literally nothing in his life so far that could have prepared Alec for this. The wet, hot pressure around him, the sensation of weightlessness; he kind of feels like he wants to melt into nothing just to escape from the intensity. He makes the mistake, at one point, of looking down at where Magnus is swallowing him down.

He does not do it again.

The sight of Magnus’s mouth stretched obscenely around his cock, eyes closed in an almost _blissful_ expression of enjoyment - well. He’s not sure how he’s meant to survive that. It’s possible Alec died several hours ago and has been sent straight to heaven.

Or hell. It really depends on your viewpoint.

It takes an embarrassingly scant handful of minutes before Alec’s holding himself back from thrusting into the tight, wet heat of Magnus’s mouth, pressure pooling in his spine, hips trembling with the effort of not taking what he needs. The speed and heat of Magnus’s attentions are overwhelming, each wave of sensation threatening to pull Alec under. He’s so close to the cresting wave that precedes the fall that he almost _wails_ at the loss of contact when Magnus pulls away, every atom of his existence attempting to follow the heat of Magnus’s mouth.

“Fuck, Magnus, I can’t-” Magnus hums interestedly from a distance and Alec feels relief and frustration in equal measure at the lack of pressure _everywhere._

“You’re doing so beautifully,” Magnus says, and the combination of his voice, words, and the gentle grip of his fingers against Alec’s hip breaks everything _wide open_. Alec comes between them with a surprised shout, every muscle in his body locking up as he shudders to completion beneath Magnus, untouched.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he gasps, when he has breath to do so, “I said three, fuck, I’m _sorry-”_ Then Magnus is kissing him with a furious intensity, cutting off any further apologies with ruthless efficiency.

“Don’t you dare apologise for that,” he murmurs, voice like iron, and _fuck_. There’s no way on earth that the tension and vehemence in Magnus’s voice doesn’t have Alec trying to get hard again so immediately that it’s _painful_.

“Magnus,” he says weakly, and then he’s being kissed like he’s the _answer_ to something. The slick, sharp tang of it has Alec thrusting against nothing all over again, sparks of pleasure and something a little less familiar zinging up his spine. “Fuck, _ah-_ ” It hurts, but not enough for him to want it to stop. Fingers dancing up and down the length of his cock, so recently spent, have him whining and arching even as he tries to figure out just how he _feels_ about the intensity of the contact.

“Too much?” Magnus asks, like Alec even _knows;_ like Alec is sane enough right now to figure out what’s enough and what isn’t. Everything feels insanely good and achingly painful, as though his body doesn’t know what to do with the glut of sensations currently taking over his nervous system and is giving him a 50/50 shot at either. Alec whines, hands clutching desperately at every bit of skin he can reach, and he’s rewarded seconds later by lips on his neck, fingers carding through the hair on his chest and the mess on his stomach.

“I need you to tell me this is okay, Alexander,” Magnus murmurs, tongue darting out to trace the shell of Alec’s ear as he shudders, gasping desperately underneath Magnus. “Are you still okay with me touching you?” Alec nods violently, biting his lip and almost drawing blood with the enthusiasm of his acquiescence. “Tell me, sweetheart,” Magnus says, voice so low it lances through Alec like something sharp and physical, a series of razor-edged pinpricks down his spine. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want you to touch me,” he says, like he’s reading from a script, voice almost robotic. If he thinks about it too much he’ll break, and he doesn’t have the capacity for anything rational right now. “Please - Magnus. _Touch me._ ”

Magnus, beautiful and unrelentingly perfect, does as he’s asked. His hands are everywhere again, running up and down Alec’s thighs and over his chest and stomach, brushing against the sensitive areas where he needs it most, but never giving him _quite_ what he wants. Alec is hard again painfully quickly, reduced almost to soundlessness for a moment or two with the intensity of what he’s feeling.

“Do you still-”

“Yes,” Magnus breathes, pressing his mouth firmly against Alec’s, as though to reassure him that what he wants is _happening;_ they’re here now, together, and nothing short of Armageddon is going to stop them from cementing this bond. The power of it hums underneath Alec’s skin, strengthened minutely even by the embarrassing display of his first orgasm, turning him into something responsive and reactive, inhibitions left entirely in the dust.

Then Magnus takes his hand, slicking up Alec’s fingers with a snap of his own before guiding them between his legs and-

Yeah. Okay.

Alec tries to breathe. He’s been doing it for a few years now; it shouldn’t be this hard. He can absolutely carry on now, as he presses a finger inside Magnus and gets a hissing, shuddering breath in return. He refuses to melt away entirely at the desperate clutch of muscle around him, or the shaky exhalation it seems to pull from Magnus’s lungs. Alec is transfixed. The slightest movement of his fingers, a gentle thrust and twist, seems to bring about the most gratifying of responses. Magnus groans, working himself back against one finger then two, the sinuous roll of his hips leaving Alec’s mouth dry and every nerve in his body ready for round two of whatever Magnus is willing to give him.

If this is what the connection feels like now, untethered and only partially formed, Alec thinks the full power of it once completed might kill him. He wants it with an intensity that steals the breath from his lungs.

“Keep doing _exactly that,”_ Magnus orders him, three of Alec’s fingers buried inside him and apparently hitting something _very good,_ if the shuddering moan it pulls out of Magnus is any indication. Alec obeys, and Magnus makes that noise again, which has Alec squeezing his eyes shut so he can concentrate on not doing something stupid like coming without permission. He swallows and tries to breathe through the heat that thought sends through him; being given _permission_ is a concept he had no idea he’d be this into, but he wants it pretty fucking badly. He wants to be _good_ for Magnus.

“Look at me, Alexander,” Magnus murmurs, and Alec obeys without thinking. Magnus stills above him and takes in a sharp breath, hands moving down from where he’s been bracing himself against Alec’s shoulders to run his nails softly down Alec’s arms, before moving back again to trace his collarbones and slide through the hair on his chest. His fingers brush Alec’s nipples, the tentative nature of every touch completely at odds with the hunger in his eyes; Alec keens a little, trying not to arch too obviously into it. “You are absolutely stunning like this, you know. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you more beautiful than when you’re a little bit desperate.” Alec wants to hide his face or disappear altogether, but he forces himself not to move, biting just a little too hard on his lower lip again to stop himself from whining pathetically.

 _“Magnus,”_ he says eventually, because he doesn’t know how else to respond to that. Magnus is so beautiful it hurts to look at him sometimes; Alec’s not sure he’s even in the same league. This all feels like a very pleasant fever dream - a feeling only intensified by the sweat he can feel gathering behind his knees and prickling at his hairline.

 _“Alec,”_ Magnus replies with a raised eyebrow, then moves back against his hand with a little roll of his hips, letting out another stuttering breath. “I’m very much ready for you, sweetheart. Given our _unique_ situation, I would say a condom isn’t really necessary, but it may help to dull the sensation for you just a little. Keep this from ending too quickly.” There’s a glint in Magnus’s eye that tells Alec he’s being _baited_.

“I can take it,” he says through gritted teeth, though he’s really not sure if that’s true or not. Magnus smiles at him, slow and sweet, as though they’re just having a friendly chat and aren’t literally moments away from fucking themselves into magical matrimony.

“You said three, didn’t you?” Magnus says, voice low and honeyed, and Alec swallows and nods. “If you can manage to hold off just twice while you’re inside me, I’ll be so _proud_ of you.” If Alec grits his teeth any harder, they’re going to shatter, but the wild heat Magnus’s words send through him is almost too much to stand.

“Yeah, I can - I can do that.”

“You can be good for me?” Fucking hell, Alec’s going to _die_.

“I can be good,” he whispers, and then Magnus is kissing him with a pleased hum, and Alec suddenly remembers one _very important thing_. “Stamina,” he gasps into Magnus’s mouth, easing his fingers out and - not for the first time - thanking any higher power who may be listening for his magical boyfriend when Magnus cleans him up with a lazy wave of his hand.

“That will feature heavily here, yes,” Magnus confirms, but he pulls back just a few inches so he can raise his eyebrows in question.

“I need my stele,” Alec says firmly, and it’s on the bed by his hand a second later, though Magnus is still looking at him curiously. When he picks up his stele and raises it to his stamina rune, however, understanding and amusement pass across Magnus’s face.

“I think that’s called cheating,” he says lightly, and Alec’s hand stops millimetres from its target.

“Should I not-”

“I’d like to see how you manage without it for the first one at least,” Magnus says, curling his fingers around Alec’s wrist and rubbing his thumb across the thin skin shifting in time with his erratically thumping pulse. “Do you think you can do that?” 

The thing is, Alec’s only ever done this by himself before with his stamina rune activated - he’d been bored and horny, not really expecting to like it as much as he had. Jerking off isn’t even a fraction as intense as _this_ has been so far, so Alec’s really _not fucking sure_. He chews on his lip and closes his eyes with a sigh, moving his arm away from the rune and letting the stele fall back onto the bed sheets.

“I don’t want to disappoint you,” he says quietly, opening his eyes and licking his lips, “but we can try it.” Magnus’s eyes follow the movement of Alec’s tongue almost imperceptibly, and then he’s leaning forward for a hard, determined kiss that Alec feels down to his toes. 

“Alexander, what part of me being unable to keep my hands off you has made you think you could _ever_ disappoint me?” He doesn’t give Alec time to answer, kissing him again until they’re both breathless and Alec is having trouble figuring out which way is up.

“Magnus,” Alec begs, barely able to get the word out past everything he’s feeling; the handful of pleading syllables seem to get across exactly what he can’t say, however, and a second later he almost bites through his bottom lip as Magnus slicks him up and starts to sink down onto his cock. Alec digs his fingers into Magnus’s hips so hard it must be painful, but Magnus’s only response is to make a punched-out noise of satisfaction as he finishes his achingly slow glide to seat himself on Alec’s lap. “Don’t move,” he bites out, staring up at the ceiling with his teeth gritted, trying to remember how to breathe.

“Don’t move _what?_ ” Magnus asks, moving his hips pointedly in a small circle that has Alec hissing and slamming his eyes shut so he can concentrate on thinking incredibly unsexy thoughts for just a moment. Inquisitor Herondale naked. An army of Forsaken. The time Max threw up on him after eating too many pancakes. He’s _desperate_ , okay?

“Please - fuck, _please don’t move,_ ” he amends, and Magnus stills with a hum of approval, allowing Alec a brief reprieve. He’s not going to lose it this quickly, he _refuses._

“Better. Manners cost nothing, Alexander.”

It feels like everything’s costing Alec quite a fucking lot at the moment, actually, even though Magnus sounds almost completely unaffected.

Then Alec opens his eyes again and actually _sees_ him, and he has to admit that he might be wrong there. Magnus’s glamour is completely down now, which is just as mind-meltingly hot as it always is, and he’s a little flushed; there’s a tremor in his thighs where he’s holding still, and he looks almost painfully hard.

“Is that one?” Alec asks tightly, like he doesn’t already know the answer to that. Magnus hums.

“Not quite,” he says pleasantly, and then he’s moving again and it’s all Alec can do to hold on and try not to fall apart immediately. He gasps and clutches at whatever skin he can reach, hands running up the sweat-damp skin of Magnus’s torso and pulling at his shoulders until he meets Alec’s mouth with his own; the change in angle, alongside the heat and intensity of the kiss, has Alec on the brink a few minutes later, everything in him only a few degrees from boiling over.

 _“One,”_ he gasps, and Magnus stills immediately, pushing himself up on those glorious arms that he likes to hide behind silk shirts and jackets, giving Alec space to breathe. Alec forces himself to take that opportunity, pulling in oxygen and exhaling a few times with dubious success. He feels like he’s relearning how his lungs work. Magnus’s hand on his cheek pulls Alec back to himself, and he meets golden eyes with another shuddering breath.

“You’re doing so well,” Magnus says softly, and Alec bites back a whimper, forcing himself to keep his hips still. “I’ll give you sixty seconds, is that going to be enough time for you, sweetheart?” Alec nods. “I need you to say it, Alec.”

“Yeah. Yes.” A minute is fine. Probably.

He rethinks his stance on this when the time has passed and Magnus starts moving again, but it’s a little bit late to take it back now. He’s probably not going to be any more prepared in five minutes, frankly, and it’s incredibly hard to even _think about_ telling Magnus to stop when the tight heat around him feels so good.

Then Magnus starts _talking_ and Alec bites down on the inside of his cheek so hard he tastes blood.

“Have you any idea how good you feel?” Magnus gasps, and Alec has to assume the answer is _pretty fucking good_ from the look on Magnus’s face, but if he concentrates on that for too long, Alec’s definitely going to disappoint both of them very quickly. “Nobody else gets to have this, nobody can have you but _me_ -” The fierce possessiveness in his voice has Alec hurtling towards the edge again unfairly quickly - because apparently today is just going to be him being surprised by his own kinks _repeatedly_ until it _kills_ him - and he only just catches himself in time.

“Two - Magnus, _two_ -” Magnus goes still again immediately, gripping Alec’s shoulders and breathing hard as Alec himself heaves in a breath and scrambles for the last of his sanity. “Please, Magnus, I can’t do that again, I can’t-” And yeah, he’s babbling a little bit, but if Magnus doesn’t let him come soon his soul is going to leave his fucking body and he’ll lose his _mind_.

“I think you overestimate how much strength I have left,” Magnus says shakily, and now that Alec looks at him he realises he’s probably got company in the burning need in his blood. Magnus looks completely gone, cat eyes no longer slit-pupiled but blown wide, and there’s a dark flush high on his cheekbones; his cock is leaking steadily against his stomach, and Alec wants to touch him so badly it feels like a physical ache.

“Sixty seconds,” Alec breathes, almost on autopilot, and Magnus gives a shaky nod in response. It’s pretty gratifying to know that Alec’s not alone in feeling stretched so close to breaking point, like every inch of skin over his bones is paper-thin and horribly vulnerable. Alec closes his eyes and tries to breathe.

“Too long,” Magnus says brokenly less than twenty seconds later, and a moment later he’s moving, hands firm on Alec's shoulders as he uses the leverage to bring himself down for a kiss that's more teeth and tongue than anything else. Alec is a breath away from coming when Magnus makes a wounded noise above him and drags his lips across Alec's jaw to his ear. "Come for me, darling. Be a good boy for me and come."

Alec's vision completely whites out, back arching and head thrown back with the force of his orgasm. He thinks he probably screams. He's vaguely aware of Magnus clenching down around his cock, and of warmth splattering across his chest, but he's pretty sure he loses consciousness for a bit after that.

Having an orgasm with another person probably isn’t meant to be so intense you black out, Alec thinks as he comes around, his entire body feeling a bit like a day-old bruise. Then again, they probably don't usually end in two people being magically intertwined for eternity. He doesn't have a benchmark for this.

Alec becomes aware of Magnus murmuring something into his throat, breath hot and damp on the skin of his neck. Alec tries to tune in, and realises he doesn't actually really need to _hear_ what Magnus is saying.

Because he can feel it.

"I love you," Alec whispers, echoing the devoted contentment he can feel through the bond back to Magnus. "I love you so much, Magnus. Please come here-" And Magnus does, lifting his head from the hollow at Alec's throat so Alec can take his face in broad, shaking palms and kiss him with something unbearably soft and unwavering in his bones.

"I love you, Alexander," Magnus murmurs against his mouth, and Alec presses their smiles back together like there's nothing else in the world that matters.

_I know._

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a pretty wholesome continuation to "The real thing". Was I going to write them making soulful eye contact as they boned? Absolutely. Was I planning to try and cram a whole bunch of kinks in there for shits and giggles? Absolutely not, and it's Accal1a and Aria_Lerendeair's joint responsibility that this has happened. Also gin. I blame gin.
> 
> If you need me, I'll be at the bottom of the ocean.


End file.
